A town with two distinct Remembrance Day services? Each drawing impressive crowds, one seemingly no more important than the other?
That’s precisely what we have here in Penticton. And while some might say the two should be merged into one, the truth is that the current setup gives residents a choice. Head to the Trade and Convention Centre for the indoor, sit-down, protected-from-the-cold version, or brave the weather but feel more traditional at Veterans Memorial Park.
Or, you could take in a little of both. And then for good measure, drop by the local Legion afterward. That's what PentictonNow did Saturday for Remembrance Day 2023. And it felt…wonderful.
We started the day outside Memorial Arena as members of local and regional service and community groups and public safety organizations readied for the short but customary Remembrance Day procession across the complex parking lot to the Convention Centre.
We sat in with the Girl Guides as they played games – challenging games – to while away the minutes, and the Air Cadets as they brushed up on presentation and parading.
And that's when we ran into Dan Coyle. At 75 years old, Coyle is retired and happy and rather quick witted. He had us laughing a couple of times.
He's also a past president of the Penticton Legion and on this day, his chest loaded with medals and awards, he was carrying the Legion flag in the upcoming procession.
Several years ago when he was a wee bit younger, Coyle was a member of the Royal Canadian Navy Destroyer Escort Squadron.
"We were submarine detectors," he said. "Sonar. During (the) Vietnam (War).
"I have a lot of stories."
We suggested that being on the high seas trying to detect submarines must have been highly stress-filled work. But Coyle was pragmatic.
"Canada perfected submarine detection in the Second World War and after," he said. "We invented a lot of new equipment that goes deeper underwater."
He did admit, however, that being a musician helped him be a better sub detector.
"The only two of us who got into the sonar," he said, "were both musicians. Though electronic sounds are different from musical sounds.
"And I still had good sound after the military, so I played the bagpipes and played with other musicians and ran pipe bands on the west coast. I started the City of New Westminster Pipe Band.
"And I ended up working for BC Tel. I needed good hearing for that too."
Coyle remained on the coast 'til retirement, when he moved out of the rain forest to the Okanagan.
"I'm here today because I'm a veteran," he said. "Helping out is important. I've been doing this for years."
The parade made its way to the front doors of the Convention Centre a bit later than scheduled. Inside, several hundred people awaited, sitting comfortably on folding chairs.
Soon enough the colour guard made its way up the centre aisle to the stage and the ceremony began in earnest.
But for us it was time to zip to the outdoor event at Veterans Memorial Park.
There, hundreds more took in a ceremony that, as always, revolved around the Penticton Cenotaph. The crowd seemed larger than last Nov. 11, perhaps because the day was a good ten degrees warmer.
Arguably the most poignant moment came when 91-year-old veteran Fred MacDonald, long a fixture at the Veterans Memorial Park event, paused while placing a wreath at the base of the cenotaph, faced the crowd and briefly addressed them.
MacDonald doesn’t get around as well as he used to, so his brief talk with the spectators was a beautiful thing. We count ourselves lucky to be there for it.
Eventually, the ceremony concluded and the crowd was invited to lay their poppies at the cenotaph. And hundreds complied. Standing in the middle while a sea of people come toward you from every direction, poppies in hand, was quite the experience.
After the park had mostly cleared, we had the good fortune to speak with another vet. A 71-year-young vet named Larry Harris, a big man with broad shoulders and a ready laugh.
And at this particular Remembrance Day ceremony, the Naramata resident was the parade marshal.
"I joined (the military) in 1970," he said. "It was in our family."
Harris told us a story about his father. How, at the age of 21 on June 6, 1944, he was part of the invasion force at Juno Beach – a World War II-turning event known as D Day and regarded as the largest seaborne invasion in history.
"But June 6 was also my dad's birthday," said Harris. "So he always said 'They threw me a birthday party at Juno Beach.'"
As for signing up himself, Harris said he didn't give it too much thought.
"All of a sudden I joined and off I went," he said matter-of-factly. "I didn’t regret it. I spent ten years – two tours – in the airborne."
We asked Harris if being in the military scared the crap out of him as it likely would us. And he told us it was…interesting.
"In 1974 we were sent to Cyprus," he said. "We were there about three or four months and we were supposed to be there for six, when the Turks decided to invade the island.
"So we went from peacekeeping to something quite different."
Harris, a radio operator during his stints, said his HQ was "mortared more than once" during the conflict.
"And we got shot up outside the Ledra Palace," he said. "And we had two guys killed at checkpoints.
"I have a helmet with a bullet whacked into it. It was turning sideways and it made a perfect indentation in the helmet."
Harris maintains that preparation and extensive training is the key – even if you temporarily forget what you’ve learned when you're first plunged into battle.
"We were pretty well armed, and well trained," he said. "But you train and you get ready, and suddenly the sh*t hits the fan. And the first thing you do is forget everything you know.
"And you're wondering what the hell is going on, and then you’re like, 'Oh yeah, this is what’s going on.'
Harris calls war "organized chaos" and maintains that even after the situation in Cyprus had settled down, "civilians were still shooting other civilians because 'They're a Turk and I'm a Greek.'"
In 1980 he left the military to work the Alberta oil fields. And after a couple decades of doing that, he said, he bought a boat.
"Yeah, I did one of the stupidest things that anyone in Calgary can do," he laughed. "There are only sloughs out there, so we eventually moved west and finally found this place."
Harris has lived in the Okanagan for 20 years now. He didn’t have room for his pool table in his new BC digs so he donated it to the Penticton Legion, where he still goes "every now and then" to play a game and have a brew.
"We have a little gang that moves round," he smiled.
And he thinks Remembrance Day ceremonies are crucial – not just for remembering and celebrating those who’ve gone to war, but those who serve in the community too.
"I think it's hard for people to fully understand the culture of soldiers, or the RCMP, or Fire and Rescue," he said. "So here they get a chance to see those guys in their uniform.
"You know, the fire department loses guys, the RCMP loses guys. We're not just talking about the war. We're talking about service to the community. So I think this (Remembrance Day) is like an awakening for many."
We said our goodbyes – and our thanks – to big Larry Harris, and were on our way home.
But not before stopping at Penticton Legion #40. The place was jammed. We recognized many of the faces from the day's dual ceremonies. Most were upbeat and involved in conversation. The beer was flowing. The pipers were ready to pipe.
It was a great finish to a humbling day.
